


"I don't do relationships"

by Alexei2020



Series: Oneshot collection [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Misunderstandings, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter is Not Impressed, Secret Identity, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26033989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexei2020/pseuds/Alexei2020
Summary: Peter gave up on relationships a long time ago. It simply doesn't work with his life as a vigilante protecting his city and risking his life every chance he's got.He's still human, though. With human needs. And who better to fill said needs than the famous stereotypical playboy flying around saving the world?
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Oneshot collection [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877071
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	"I don't do relationships"

Peter cracks the door open and peaks his head out in the hallway. His hair standing out in every direction, eyes trained for the smallest sight of movement and ears straining enough to hair every single heartbeat on the floor. 

He is glad he doesn't live at the compound all the time, all the sounds of bed sheets rustling and people snoring would have made him crazy. He actually prefers to sleep in his own bed back in Queens, where he can fall asleep to the steady stream of cars on the streets and people walking around at all hours. Its oddly soothing and so much more home than being stashed into an oversized hotel room, stuffed in between a green raging giant and a robot unable to fathom the concept of privacy.

He doesn’t mind that Tony Stark gave him his own room with the avengers though. Even if he isn’t a part of the team. Sometimes big things happen in his part of town, and he can’t just sit by and watch. And apparently helping the avengers also means very long and tedious meetings afterwards to go over every single step they all did. 

Not at all Peter's favourite part of solving crime. It is boring, and doesn’t do anything to his rapidly anxious body as he comes down from his adrenaline high. Fidgety and shaking and mind spinning all over the place he generally can’t focus on these things anyway. 

But he gets to spend the night. Not with any real plan of actually sleeping, he puts his suit and mask back on after a long and calming shower, and silently crawls up to the ceiling. The corridor is dark, he can hear every slow and steady heartbeat around him, but he’s not really able to concentrate that much, and bumping into a sleepy avenger in the kitchen while casually walking upside down isn’t going to help anyone. If anything, the poor soul he would no doubt stumble upon if he were to actually sneak around without his mask (parker luck prime example right there) would probably end up with a heart attack and the whole night would be ruined too.

He scurries across the hall quickly. Neither wanting to nor able to waste any more time, and knocks on the door to his destination. It opens before he even manages to retract his hand and is left staring straight into a set of dark chocolate eyes. Confusion passes through for a second before an eyebrow shoots up and the older man is looking at him with a mix of poorly hidden amusement and faux irritation.

"Parker. Get down from the damn ceiling. What did I tell you about shoe prints and explaining it to the others?" Right. Peter had honestly forgotten about being on the wrong surface all together, but he jumps down in one swift move and pushes the other hero into the room and kicks the door shut.

"Do you have any idea what your ass in that stupidly awesome nanotech suit is doing to me, _Mr. Stark_? Don’t you ever torture me through a meeting like that again." he growls into the older man’s neck as he pins him to the wall with one hand and rips his mask off with the other.

He doesn’t hesitate or wait for any kind of answer as he latches his mouth to the very exposed skin and enjoys the increasingly ragged breathing instead.

#

In all honesty, Peter didn’t plan on falling asleep in the billionaire’s bed. He was supposed to have some mind-blowing post battle sex and quietly tip toe his way back to his glorified hotel room. 

So, he’s a little confused, and groggy and somehow it feels like he has the worst hangover ever when an alarm goes off at way-too-early and he doesn’t recognize it. At all. 

He grunts and squints his eyes open, looking straight into a messy mop of salt and pepper hair. He can feel the hot breath on his collar bone, but the alarm is really making his head pound in his ears, and he’s kind of starting to panic, because Tony is just adorable when he’s sleeping, but Peter shouldn’t be here and this is all going to be a really hot mess if anyone decides to walk through that door right now.

“Hey, Tony?” he nudges his shoulder gently, whispering. It’s obviously not going to work over that god forsaken alarm, and to no one’s surprise all he gets is a quiet sigh and a nose nuzzling into the crook of his neck. _Jesus Christ_.

Peter manages to roll his eyes in his haze and grabs both of Tony’s shoulders. Not really having the time for a gentle wake up call, he all but throws the older man away from him, using a little more force than necessary, and he watches in slight horror as a massive ball of limbs and blankets and flailing arms and legs tumble over the side of the bed with a loud _thud_. 

“Sorry, but you really need to turn off that fucking alarm. Why do you even have it on at —" he whips his head around, and his eyes narrow at the clock blinking at him from the night stand. “—5 in the morning!” he throws his head back at the pillow, letting out a growl as he wipes the sleep out of his eyes. “what the hell is wrong with you, dude?! It’s Sunday for fucks sake!”

Tony does at least have the decency to apologise, but Peter can hear feet shuffling in the hallway, and is in no way capable of forgiving at this hour, so he quickly gets his suit back on, checks his web shooters and dives out the window. 

Tony can figure out some lame excuse for why Spider-Man didn’t stay for breakfast.

#

Peter Parker is not a well-known name. Not in the business world, and definitely not in the superhero community. He works from the lab he took over after Dr. Connors decided to make half of New York into giant lizards, and sells patents to the medical industry. 

Which means he can at least have some sort of anonymity. And he’s all for that. He’s spent enough time around a certain billionaire philanthropist when he had a fake internship in high school to see all the downsides to having a public life. 

Which also means he methodically has to dodge out the way whenever said billionaire is hunting him down on the streets. 

It’s always some obscure excuse about lunch or business meeting or job opportunity, but Peter isn’t really interested. He has a way to make enough money for a stable living, and has the possibility to sneak out of the lab should his other spandex clad personality be needed. Crime doesn’t follow normal working hours after all. 

He has to wonder sometimes, if Tony has a hidden tracker on him or something, because he shows up at the weirdest places, where a person like the Tony Stark isn’t supposed to be. Like... ever. 

The hole in the wall diner where Peter gets a discount on his weekly burger for instance. The antique store hidden away in a dark corner of the Bronx where he buys collectable teacups for his aunt. The animal shelter he volunteers at whenever he has the time. It’s ridiculous. And Peter can’t for the life of him figure out what his deal is.

#

Tony does have the most magnificent ass. And those tight jeans should be illegal on a superhero movie night. Or avenger’s movie night featuring Spider-Man. Whatever. Tony wants him there, and Peter is never one to pass up the opportunity to throw popcorn at Hawkeye or arm wrestle with Thor. He even gets to piss them off one at the time just by being present, and Peter lives for it.

Tony is for sure going to hear about his not-so-subtle hip swaying whenever Peter has a view of that perfect ass, though. It’s torture. Evil. Pure and simple. 

He gets his moment in between horror movie one and horror movie two, when he’s politely asked to help carry beer refreshments from the kitchen to the theatre room. Just after he ogles the perfectly shaped rear and saves it to memory for later studies. 

He corners the older man and places one hand on each side of his hips, gripping the counter top, and smirks under the mask when he feels the shudder running down his spine. _Good_.

“You’re a fucking tease, y'know? This costume doesn’t give much room for watching that ass of yours all night.” He all but growls into the other man’s ear, cupping the ass and squeezing hard for emphasis. Tony's breath hitches, but he smirks rather triumphantly, batting his way too long eyelashes at him.

“I'm sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Spidey.” Bullshit. The older man trails his fingers across Peter’s chest as he talks, in an unforgiving husky way. “d'you plan on stayin' the night? Can't have you swing around with alcohol in your system, y’know.” He thumbs at the hem of Peter’s mask, delicately lifting it to rest on his nose. Calloused, yet gentle and strong fingers cupping his jaw, scratching gently at his five o’clock stubble. 

Tony licks his bottom lip and leans in. He tastes like coffee and beer and pepperoni pizza, and it’s nothing like the sloppy mouth devouring kisses they have shared in the past. It successfully shuts Peter’s brain down for a minute and he responds on instinct. Moving his chapped lips in tune with the soft ones.   
But then his brain gets a chance to restart and he stumbles back a step. Lenses wide as he stares at the man in front of him. _The hell was that?!_ Tony looks just as confused as he does, but Peter can’t quite figure out if it’s because of the kiss or Peter’s sudden back tracking. 

He doesn’t give himself time to ponder over it, just stutters out some excuse about something, he doesn’t even know what. Panicking just a little over the intimacy. Because that’s not what he’s used to. Peter doesn’t do intimacy. He doesn’t even look back at Tony as he steps away and turns on his heels, diving out the nearest window as it opens automatically when he closes in.

#

It was Peter’s backtracking that caused Tony’s confusion. If the rapid incoming texts the next week is anything to go by. And in all honesty, Peter has about no clue as to what the hell the older man is rambling about. But he gets the sinking feeling he may have misunderstood their casual hook-ups as something more. He should probably have discussed that with him before they did anything, or at least when it became a recurring thing. 

But Peter can’t come up with any scenario where he might have given the impression that it was more than just sex. How the hell can a rich ass playboy mistake mind numbing sex and conversations strictly confined to bedroom activities with dating of any kind? What the hell kind of dating does the playboy indulge in if whatever they have is considered as a possibility?

He doesn’t answer the texts blowing up his phone. He doesn’t know what to say, or do, or think about it in general. So, he does what Peter has always done with things he can’t possibly wrap his head around – he ignores it. 

It lasts another week. Peter is entering a conference room to discuss a new invention, all dressed up in a white button down and beige slacks. And Tony all but drops his jaw. Peter is close to mimicking him, because _what the actual fuck is he doin' here?_

“Mr. Parker! Thank you so much for coming on such a short notice! I'm sure you know who Mr. Stark here is, and I’m sorry for not mentioning it on the phone, but it was a rather last-minute decision. He is really impressed with your idea and would like to work with you on it, should we choose to fund it.” Peter clocks out for the rest of the meeting. He nods and agrees and side eyes Tony the whole time. He manages to explain some of the issues the funder seems to be uncertain of, and gives a polite smile when the man tells him he'll be in touch.

He bolts through the door as soon as the meeting is over, watching with eagerness as the front door to the building is coming closer by every step. Still mindful of his speed, but maybe going just a little faster than a normal business man would. 

He reaches the handle before he hears Tony’s voice yell his name behind him, and isn’t that just rude to someone who cherishes his anonymity? He sighs and turns around, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Challenging. 

“What do you want, Tony?” 

He gets a puff of air leaving the other man’s lungs in reply as he catches up. Clearly aging and years of mistreating your body isn’t kind to ones respiratory system. 

“Can we talk? You haven’t answered my texts. Or calls. Or emails. And I'm kinda worried.” 

Peter snorts, and narrows his eyes, studying the emotions flowing through the dark eyes. 

“Worried.” He repeats. Disbelieving. “you know who I am, right? I have my own daily column in the newspaper, tracking my every day moves. What the hell are you worried about?” 

“I... Can we not talk in the middle of this reception, please? Can I buy you lunch?” 

“I am fully capable of buying my own food, Tony.” He turns around and stalks out the front door, Tony on his heels as he hunts down the nearest pizza place.

#

Pizza on the table as a wall between them, Peter takes a slice and eyes Tony’s nervous fidgeting, patiently waiting for him to start talking. He’s not known for being patient though, so it doesn’t last long until he puts the food down on his plate and laces his fingers together on the table, looking at his companion with something that he hopes get the point across. 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he even gets a single word out. And it does something to Peter’s carefree, yet slightly annoyed attitude.

“What happened the other night, Pete? I thought we were doing fine?” he finally settles on, and _what_?

“Yeah, we were. But I think you might have misunderstood the exact status of what we have, Tony.” He can’t help the sympathy seeping through his words, because frankly, the whole thing is just sad. 

Peter gave up on stable relationships years ago, and has no intention of testing it out in any near future. He’s still human, though, and he has needs. Tony was simply a good choice at the time, with him having the reputation of a stereotypical playboy and all. 

“I really like you, Pete. I thought we had something.” 

“Tony.” He bites his cheek, trying to word this without hurting the other man too much. He looks heartbroken already, and Peter haven’t even started yet. “I don’t do relationships. It doesn’t work with our lives. What gave you the impression we could ever be a good couple, anyway man? I mean... you thrive off of attention. You basically live your life around what gives the paparazzi the most gossip. I don’t want that. You know me. You've known me for years.”

“Which is why I never told anyone about us, Pete. Why I kept your secret from the other avengers. I thought you knew that.” 

“Tony. How many times have someone told you that actually talking about something like this is really important? I’m as oblivious as the day is long. Subtle hints and unsaid messages go right past me. And hooking up in dark corners and sneaking around is not a healthy way to keep a relationship steady. I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding. I am, but you can do so much better than me if you really want something lasting.” He squeezes Tony’s hand gently before he gets up. There’s not much left to be said at this point. Tony needs time to let everything sink in, and Peter needs to swing around some skyscrapers to clear his head.

#

Tony apparently is terrible at letting things sink in. After a month of mutual silence Peter starts getting flowers brought to his apartment. And his lab. His equipment is mysteriously upgraded, he starts getting emails upon emails about possible projects from various companies, and gift cards of all kinds shows up in his mail box. 

Peter is tempted to just send it all back. He doesn’t need Tony’s show off. Or his money. And he is terrible at tending to flowers. Fortunately for him, his aunt loves taking care of them, and Peter feels a little better for not unintentionally killing what could have been a whole botany garden worth of plants. 

He sends the gift cards to various organisations, and he might have mentioned that they come from a metal cased superhero, just because if anyone could really appreciate the added attention, it would be him. 

He keeps the new equipment. After checking every possible hiding spot for cameras or microphones or any other weird form of spy ware. He’s still not over the whole baby monitor protocol from all those years ago, and the second he was able to make his own suit, the old one from SI was neatly folded and sent back with a ‘thanks for the loan' note attached in true Spider-Man fashion. 

He shouldn’t really be surprised when he opens his front door one morning -- already running late for a meeting, bagel between his teeth and coffee in one hand as he stumbles into his shoes -- to find Tony Stark standing awkwardly on the other side, knuckles raised as ready to knock. 

He manages a sympathetic look as he hurries to lock the door and waves a hand to gesture for Tony to follow him out of the building. At least he can let the man talk while he walks to the subway. 

“Hey, can you slow down a little?” _no, not really_. He does anyway, letting the older man catch up as he swallows the last of his breakfast with a sip of his coffee.

“I’m sorry, but I actually have someplace to be. You can walk me to the subway if you want to talk, but I don’t have time to stop right now.” It sounds so weird, coming from him. Peter Parker, the one and only person who never gets wherever he needs to be when he’s needed there, is actually trying to be on time. Who knew?

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. You're a busy man. I get it. So uhm... can I take you out tonight? On a real date?” Peter is not awake enough for this. Morning should always start at noon. He’s not built to be up and having a real conversation with anyone at seven-thirty. 

“Did our last meeting just escape tour memory somehow? _I don’t date_.” He quickly checks the streets for incoming cars before crossing, Tony half jogging behind him to keep up. This is not even a little like what he imagined this morning would look like.

“No, I remember. But I want to prove to you that it can be a good thing.” Peter actually laughs at that. 

“Tony stark, _the_ Tony Stark wants to show me that dating can be a positive thing. Do you even know how dating works?” 

“You wound me, Parker. I'll have you know, that I have actually done research on this. And I actually spent a good few years with Pepper yelling at me for everything I did wrong.” 

“You’re unbelievable. I'll give you one date. One chance to prove that at least you know how to properly insert your research to your task. And I expect some mind-blowing sex afterwards. It’s hard to find someone new when you don’t have enough hours in one day.” He turns his head to smirk over his shoulder, winking at the other man as he stops in his tracks. Looking terribly caught off guard. 

He waves playfully back at him where he’s still standing stuck in his tracks as he jumps down the stairs to the subway. 

As he stands in the noisy train and reads the overly long thank you text from Tony ten minutes later, complete with a dozen heart emojis spread around he smiles to himself and bites his lip. _Maybe it won’t be too bad._

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
